The Statistics of Probability
by TimeyWhimeyPowerOfTechnetium
Summary: The fire was all consuming, searching for a host. It just wanted to play, was that so bad?


The fire had started simply enough; an innocent flash of magic towards the hearth on a cold winters day. But, somehow, god knows how, the fire became a creature of its own creation, devouring anything it came near to; fueled by magic and physical materials.

Merlin had been going from the armory to the prince's chambers to fulfill his daily duties as a manservant when he saw a yellow tinged smoke coming from Gaius' chambers. With a half-pirouette Merlin turned towards his chambers and sprinted up the stairs, hoping it was just one of the physicians formulas gone wrong.

It wasn't.

The smoke attempted to escape through the cracks of the doorframe, in breath-like gasps, and Merlin, with no concern of himself, slammed his shoulder against the door, shouting the name of his mentor, "Gaius!"

The only reply was an explosive burst of flame, causing Merlin to instinctively duck back, his magic automatically reflecting the flames. With his protection, Merlin walked into the burning room, searching for Giaus, hoping that he had survived. What Merlin failed to notice was the fact that the flames began to consume his magic.

When Merlin reached the center of the room, his magic failed him, his eyes returning to their native shade of blue; allowing the flames to flicker at his physical form, eating at his clothing, the smoke and toxic fumes attempted to invade his lungs, but still, Merlin continued, his only fear being for Gaius, who wasn't even in the castle; he was down in the lower town, tending to a child whose leg had gotten stepped on by a cow, successfully breaking the leg.

Merlin gasped for air as the oxygen available to him became a useless percentage in the air, then let out an agonized scream as the flames began to consume him. The flames burned, cooking him like a steak in the oven, Merlins one thought was to make the pain stop, but his magic was unresponsive.

* * *

A sudden scream alerted a guard to the fire, he bounded to the location, and as he tried to look through the doorframe he was blinded by the flames, deciding that anyone unlucky enough to be caught in the fire was a lost cause burst into the courtyard shouting, "Fire! Fire in the Physicians quarters! Fire!"

Almost immediately at least fifteen people responded, forming the start of a bucket brigade. Too bad they were too late.

* * *

A guard ran into the council room, interrupting the council going between Uther, Arthur, and a selection of nobles and knights. "Sire! The courts physicians quarters are on fire!"

Immediately Uther leapt into action, calling for the knights to go and rally all servants and guards, the knights and Arthur hastened to the courtyard, the warning bell tolling loudly.

* * *

As Arthur ran, he realized he didn't know where his manservant was. A new purpose fueled the princes steps; to find his manservant, and as he surveyed the crowd of commoners and knights, he failed to see the lanky form of Merlin.

Then suddenly Arthur felt someone pushing against his back, in what felt like a desperate attempt to escape something. With a thoughtful expression, Arthur stepped to the side and turned around, looking at the flaming doorframe to Gaius' and Merlin's chambers, and in shock at the sight, he took a minuscule step back.

* * *

Merlin felt different. His skin felt hot and possessive, but it wasn't too uncomfortable; it was just that discomfort one gets when they sit too close to a fire for too long. It burned, but it was the good burn, not a itchy burn or a painful one.

And Merlin felt lonely; as if he was alone... As if no one could understand him. And he remembered his childhood in Ealdor, osterized by the simple families for being born of wedlock, and since strange things happened around him, the people would rumor that he was a child of the devil. And Merlin decided that once he finished the chores Arthur had assigned to him, he would play. He would indulge in childish and magical pleasures. Maybe he could get Morgana to play with him; it must be hard to be the kings ward, Merlin reasoned. And maybe Arthur would join as well.

With purpose Merlin got up, off the floor and walked out of the burning room, noticing immediately the man throwing water into the room, Merlin stopped before him, perchance this man would like to play a game with him, "Won't you come and play with me?"

The man stared at the ghostly form, eyes wide, jaw opening for a cry of terror as he flung himself a way and into the back of the prince; but his terror was so great, the man failed to notice.

Merlin frowned, confused, why would the man run away? He wasn't that different. Was he? Then Merlin recognized the man who was turning around to face him, and smiled as Arthur's face dropped in shock.

"Merlin?" Arthur stared at the transparent figure of his friend who was softly glowing.

The ghostly boy broke into his trademark grin, "Arthur! I was going to look for you. After I finish the jobs you assigned me for today, lets play a game with Morgana and Gwen!"

Arthur stared at his servant, quickly attempting to figure a way to no anger the spectre, "I don't know Merlin, I have the council to attend to, and I need to help train a few of the new squires..."

Merlin's face fell, "You're always busy. A prince shouldn't be that busy. He should have time to play and have fun."

Arthur was growing uncomfortable, the spectre was not behaving like Merlin, it was behaving childish-like, and it gave Arthur goosebumps when he looked at it. But, it had Merlin's voice and form. Arthur desperately wished Giaus was there.

* * *

**And that is the end for chapter one. **

** Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin, alright? If I did, it would still be playing.**


End file.
